YANDERE Spy x Family x Reader [Tangled Threads And Needles]

Prologue

A radio station starts to read a fairytale at the certain time of day at seven in the morning. A young woman turns on the radio and tunes in. Keeping her hands occupied with sewing.

The old radio finished it’s song as a voice came on air. “Ladies and Gentleman, it is now time for the next reading of "Castles Made Of Sand”. For any of of our newer listeners who are now just tuning in. A small summary shall be provided."

A small wistful sigh escapes the young woman listening in. Tying the tiny knot for the needle as she punctured the white cloth sitting in her lap. A joyful gleam on her face as the summary fished and the story picked up from where it was left off.

{ "The young man lead the young woman down a road of shopkeepers in their own little sections. Selling foreign products to buyers or shouting their goods for others to hear. The man spots a beautiful pink fabric from one of the vendors. He goes over while his curious female companion follows.”}

Letting her needle fall into her lap, she fiddles with the dial on the small radio that sat on a small table. The warm yellow light reflecting off it from the lamp next to her recliner.

{“ "You would look lovely in this."  The male said, joyfully spinning around with the fabric. Which made Marry-Anne giggle to her hearts content.”}

(Y/N) felt her heart burst as a giddy grin came across her face. The coolnees from the thimbles on her fingers keep her on track with her sewing. Pulling out a pair of scissors from her wooden basket filled with supplies. She carefully cuts the string.

{ “A paper flies into Marry-Annes face, surprised. The long haired beauty pulls it off and looks it over.” “The prince is missing!” She read aloud, worry written on her features. Her companion only smiles, “don’t worry your pretty little head. I’m sure he’s fine and is blessed by your concern.”}

{ “Mary-Anne shakes her head. "I know I’m not from here, kind sir. But wouldn’t there be a political crisis if he isn’t found? What if he’s in danger and was snatched?!” The brunette fretted. Her companion notices her worry, so to take her mind off it, he takes her hand and kisses her knuckles…“ }

A girlish and gentle sighs escapes (Y/N)’s pink painted lips. Swooning at such a sweet gesture. The narrator closes out the chapter, thanking the listeners for tuning in. The former housewife wanted to frown, but she knew better than to do so. So, she strainfully smiles, placing her items back in the basket.

The doorbell rings, the squeaky melody screaming out to her. Patting down her skirt, she moves her precious items to the side. Standing up to her full height, she takes a deep in take of air. Her smile growing bigger once her hand carefully opens the door. Instead of seeing a mailman, there was only the letters. Possibly the electric bill for Twilights apartment

Closing the door, she decided it would be good to get more groceries after breakfast!

-

The bright sun illuminates the roads and people walking onwards. The slight breeze moves a few of her baby hairs on her head. Lime green heels click on the concrete as she holds the small bag of groceries carefully.

She pauses mid-step and stood close to one of the store windows to let a anxious looking gelteman run pass. Once he was gone from sight. (Y/N) goes back to her place on the sidewalk. Yet takes notice of the window she leaned on.

Turning around, she takes a close look.

A few woman were adorn in beautiful dresses as they gathered to a table filled with small, pretty and decorated portions of breakfast food.

Glazed crepes with fruit placed on them like jewels. Golden buttered-toast and fluffy looking pancakes. All items were served by handsome men, catering the laddies as if they were royalty.

Smiling at the scene, she notices one of the woman in the restaurant. She was young, maybe around (Y/N)'s age or younger. The woman had long black hair and red ruby eyes… A odd color.  Yet it reminded her of fresh apples or blood that would spill from her fingers.

The womans skin was ghostly pale, yet healthy and thin. The black haired haired woman took notice of her gaze. No longer conversing with one of the ladies. Her attention solely on her.

Not even the tiniest  bit embarrassed of being caught in her staring. All she could do was make her annoyingly bright pink lip gloss covered lips form into a smile. Waving at her kindly with her eggshell colored glove. Then going on her merry way,

-

The dimmess of Twilights home brought a frown onto her lips. For just a moment, instead of bright colors and beautiful tales of romance. It all felt monochrome.

Dull.

Plain.

S̴̡̢̤͓͚̟͔̭̯̺̰̞͚̹̟̩͎̮̲͎̙͔̤̣̜̟͍͉̙͈̄̃̉̓͐̆̉̄̈́̓͂̌̇̌͛̆̎̇̂͛̍̃͘͜͝͠͠͝͝i̷̛̤͖͖͖̙̤̥̮̗̱̪̼̱̱͚͙̻̣̻͈̭̻̤̙̻̊͋͐̐̌́̒́̅̓͊̈́̃͑̈́̓̑̉̎̎́̓̔̋̋̍̄̉̏̾̈́͐̾̽͌̍̉͂͐͘̕͜͝ͅC̷̨͈̗̗̪̮͎̲̠̺̱̱̙̺̯̟̘̠̺̱̗̲͔̎̓̈́̄̈̅̍̌̑̄̋̀̈́̄̈́͆̐͊͋̿̓̍̕͘̕͝͝͝K̵̡̢̡̧̨̢̧̘͔̪̬̱͇̝̗̪̯̥̠̥͙̻͙͙͈͖͕̬͇̣͇͚̪̤̱̬͍͓̗̹͋̍̒͒̐̋̓͐̏͛̆̚͝͝į̶̨̨̣͈̲̲̼̜̬͔̯̰̪͎͖͙̼̩̙͈̲̪̫̭̰͕͇͇̯͉͉̰͍͔̬̺̤͚̺̙͔̼̀͊̀͛̈́͂̅̃ͅͅņ̴̟̹̞̩̬͉̼̖̏̋͋̈́̑Ģ̵̡̛̛͙͈̣͕͈̜̺̹͇̥̝̟͔̮͍̗̖̪̙̣̤̳͉͓̂̒̽̓̈́̀̊́͋̍͗́͑̓́͐̏͐̐͐̊̒͗́̀̐̏̿̌̿́̓̉̄͑̄̎̚͝͠͠

Terrorized by these thoughts, (Y/N) found herself sitting in the recliner. Pulling out a her needles and threads, thimbles, scissors of all sorts. 

The colors of the cloths and strings of threads aided her mind. The idea of creating a pink gown just like in the story: to meet her f̸̡͚̅̀̾̍͗̑̒̆̏̀̏̀̉̀̋̃̋͂̌ͅô̶̡̻̲̹̫̹͈̾̓̊̿͝r̸̢̡̡̨̨̢̛̛̻͙͕͍͕͖͕̦͔͙͓̳͍̻̺̟̺̪̪̺̯̟͔̹̗̪̟̿̑̃̑́̈̾͋̂̊̌̓̀̀͌̒̈́̓͋̃̄͊͊́̽́̚̚͜ͅm̴̢̛̥̼̫̤̳͉̦̆̐̈̉̀̈́̔͌͑̿̈́͗̏̀̑̎̚͜͜͝e̸̢̞͓̲̙̬̙̭̯̦͓̠͕̝̲̥̙̜͋̉̀̈̚͜͜͝͠͝ŗ̸̧̡̛̛͉͔͕͙̫̟͕̻̞̟̟͖̥̟͍̝̟̲̟̦̝̟̱̼͌̇̇̌̈́̀̍̈̀̇̀̚ ̸̧̡̳̝̺̯̈́̓͆͗̐̂͌̏̏̔̽̅̆̌̓̈́̈́͊̃̾̑͊͑͆͌̈́̈̌͊̿̈́͒͆̒͌̐̾̉̅͝h̸̻̪̯̻̭̮̟̓̋͊̓͛͐̓͆̓̏̈͗̽̐̅̒̾̈́̃̉͊̊̍̄̓̈́͑͛́̓́̈̏͐̈̄̾̽͐̊̀̅̋̕͘̚̚͝͝ụ̶̢̢̢̨̲̠̦̲̟̦̱̙͈̭̲̣̰̞̝͐̌͛̍̊̅̀̍͌̉͒͛̋́̽̈́͌̑̍̈͋̊̄̔̉̽̃̔̈́̕͘̕͠͝s̵̡̡̛̛̠̦͓͚͉͈̹͕̪͔̹̼̩̩̱̥̩͕͇̜̳͈̟͓̼͓̳̳̹̬̟͙̗̿́͆̀͊̍̋͗̒̄̿̒̒̓̍̊́̿͒͗͑̉̽̓̃̓̈́͊̈́̇̽̋̀̎́̀̈̅̃͊̍̕̕͜͜͝͝͝ͅb̴̢̨̢̧̛̛̜̯̬͕̲̭̝̝̞̪͚͖͍̞̫̫̮̼̟̬͈̙̜̯̆̀̀͒́́͐̂̂̊͑̋͛͌̅͋̋̕̕͝͝͝͠ͅͅą̴̧̡̧̛͚̭̲̣̖͖̼̞̣̰̮̰̞̯̮̗̱̥̗͈̠͔͖͎̮̭̺͚̜̜̖̭͍̩̤̫̍͗͐̒̂̆̽̓͠ͅͅͅn̵̡̨̧̡̧̧̢̥̰̯͔͔͈̜̫͍̹̰̱͉̞̼͚̝͇͓͔̋̑͋́̈̇̒̐̍͂̃̋͆̓̃̿̊̃̓̿̌̉͂͒̍̀̚̕͘̕͝͠ͅḑ̵̨̛̞̞̤͚̯͍͓̝͈̜̜̘̮̼̮̮̞̓̌̊̽́̐̄͌̈́̓̽͂̓͌̂̈̒͗͝ ̴̢̡̢̢̤̥͈̫̤͈̺̦̮̲͈̰̮͉͉͈̗̘̭̥̮̝̣̦̼̫̼͚̱̘̞̱̘͖̮́̀̈́͋̔̽̿̀̆̎͊̃͆̀̃̀̈̒͋̈́̀̀̌͛̆̓͊̾́͑͘͘͠͝͠͠ͅͅͅagain, it helped her sorrows.

Knowing well enough the memories will show again tomorrow.

….

Twilight scoffs at end of his "date". Thankful his mission would be over soon and move on to the next. His mind goes over to the thought of coming back to his apartment. His home.

See you in the next chapter.